


Rough Morning

by Thranduils_Bossy_Elk



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, One Shot, Threesome, after the threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk/pseuds/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finally has his hands on a precious amulet, but he's not proud of what he did to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Morning

 

_Not again, you great bloody fool._

John rolled over onto his back, white sheets falling away from his body.  Beside him a woman still slept, her dark hair all over John’s left arm.  Judging by how much he didn’t remember in regards to her, John did the kind of math that involved numbers of shots and how many and how fast.  The pain behind his right eye that he hadn’t noticed before started to blossom and make itself known with the mental effort.  Shaking his head after a moment, he gave up and tried to slip his arm out from under her.  

His trousers, shirt, tie, and underwear were all on the floor, rumpled.  He picked them up, shoving on his trousers as quickly as possible and saving the shirt and tie for beyond the bedroom.  

 _Bye, love,_ he thought, _I’m sure it was great._

John made his way out of the bedroom, finding his boots by the door and fitting his bare feet into them as he slid out.  Surely there were easier ways to get one’s hands on hoarded amulets.  John asked himself, the voice in his head uncomfortably like Chas’s, why he felt the need to debase himself like this to get what he needed.  He had a feeling that drink had played its part in his brilliant idea for this evening. . .

Halfway across the living room and half into his shirt he was stopped by a big arm around his waist and the deep voice of its owner.

“Leavin’ so soon, gorgeous?”

John squirmed around to find a big, rugged man casually steering him towards the living room wall.  He vaguely remembered the man from somewhere . . .

“Whyn’t you stay awhile, we can do a repeat of last night”, the big man grinned, dropping his mouth to John’s neck and mouthing over an already-tender spot there, “We sure had fun.”

“Sorry, mate, got an urgent dentist appointment,” John said, trying to tug on the rest of his shirt, “Y’know teeth and Brits and all that.”

The guy didn’t want to take no for an answer.   _Why would he, John knew he certainly hadn’t said no to anything last night_.  He used his considerable bulk to press John up against the wall harder and shoved a leg between John’s thighs.  

John’s head was thumping, the effects of a full-on hangover now fully present.  He was running a little low on patience this morning.  Not that John Constantine’s reputation for patience was that great- or even existed- but still.  Besides, he’d gotten what he came for.   _Haha, good one.  Fuckin' hilarious you are this morning Johnny-boy._

John ignored the beard-covered mouth coming into view for another round of sloppy kissing, and managed to mumble out a quick repelling incantation against Big Guy’s lips.

The force of the spell knocked the guy backwards, and actually sent him over the sofa comedy-style.  John couldn’t help a grin as he wiped spit off his mouth and slid his tie back on.  

“Another time, big fella!” John called as he scooped up his trench coat on the way out the door.  The amulet he’d pocketed from the couple while they slept was nestled safely in his pocket, a heavy and reassuring weight, and mostly worth what he’d done.

**Author's Note:**

> Might continue! Or at least will post some post some more John scenes as I write them.


End file.
